The First Time
by Brandywine00
Summary: Part five, Kaylee's story posted. Series of "Firsts" for the crew members of Serenity. "The first time...."
1. Chapter 1

Love's First Sight

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Just love 'em and like to let them come play in my head.

A/N: This is the first in what I plan to be a series of "Firsts" for the crew of Serenity. Hope you enjoy. Reviews are right shiny!

*****

First moment he locked eyes on her, he was a goner.

Malcolm Reynolds never held much truck with the notion of love at first sight. Chalked it up to all be a bunch of fairy tale go se, conjured up to sell cortex vids and dime-store romantical tales to teenage girls and middle aged housewives.

Until her.

Mal felt his chest tighten up just at the sight of her, sitting there off to the side under the hard light of this dusty backwater moon. She was just waiting for him to come rescue her from this dreary life at the corner of No and Where. Waiting for him, just as he'd been looking for her but never knew it 'til this moment.

She was nice and curvy in all the right places, slender just where she oughta be, but even from a distance, he just knew she weren't all pretty looks. Inside, she'd be strong and welcoming, the kind a man could make a real home with. He couldn't scarce believe some other lucky hun dan hadn't come along and claimed for his own.

Mal couldn't pry his eyes off of her. He hadn't even got up close to her yet, and already his mind raced with visions of their future together.

A perfect match, him and her, to his way of thinking. Sure, she weren't no fresh-faced virgin, for certain. Maybe she was a bit rough 'round the edges, but she was all kinds of classy in her own way. He could tell she hadn't had any attention for a while. Damned shame, that. Mal could see the fiery young thing still there under the years of not-so-gentle use. _How he'd loved to have met her back then_, the thought jumped from his mind. _Sure ya coulda handled her back then, son?_

With a body like hers, weren't hard to guess what use she'd been put to. Most likely fell in with a disreputable sort of crowd. Looked like she'd been around the 'verse a time or two. Truth be told, she'd likely had more experience with the kind of life he figured on leading than he did his own self. Suited him just fine anyway. It weren't for everybody, scratching a living from the hard reality of the Black, but he reckoned she could handle it, and with her backing him, so could he.

So long as he loved her, respected her, she'd give him everything she had and stay true no matter what. She was meant for him, had already claimed whatever remnant of his battered heart was left after War.

He'd come here not sure what he was looking for, not expecting much. But for the first time in a long time, he felt a stirring inside. Didn't care to put a name to it as of the now, but it was there just the same.

In a near daze, he felt himself moving toward her on stilted legs, oblivious to the passers-by and the roundish man still yammering away beside him.

She was the one.

She was his. He was hers. No doubt to it.

The rotund fellow trailed off, following the besotted look in the younger man's eyes, and couldn't help grinning. She had that effect, she did. Wasn't any use trying to change the lad's mind, he thought, shaking his head.

"Sir, looks like you're a fine judge of character," he said, clapping an amicable hand on Mal's shoulder, leading him over for a more formal introduction. "She may not be the youngest belle at the ball, but this little gal's still got a lot to offer a man."

Mal stood before her, struck by the way she gleamed in the light. Shiny, solid, serene. Freedom. The salesman was saying something else now, but Mal didn't hear it. He'd give her his own name. Serenity.

"You know, you treat her right-" the man stated, tapping in the entry sequence on the Firefly-class transport's control panel, "-you treat her right, a ship like that'll be with you till the day you die..."

* * *

_**Mal does love that ship. If you liked, (or didn't) please hit the little button below and tell me why …**_

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	2. Chapter 2

THE FIRST TIME 2/?

First Reconnaissance

Firefly fanfiction by Brandywine00

Rating: PG-13/T

Part two of a series of "Firsts" for each of the crew. Zoë's never been in a situation like this….

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, just like to let Joss's folks play around in my brainpan.

Special thanks to jellie_rayneluv for her help on this!

*****

She was deep in unfamiliar territory. Glancing to the left, then right, the tall, dark-skinned woman slid into the oncoming stream of people, attempting to blend in. Reaching her destination a mite sooner than she'd expected, she paused and attempted to reach her calm center.

For the first time in a long time, the warrior woman questioned her ability to complete her objectives.

_Nothing for it now, but to get it done_, she told herself. Squaring her shoulders, Zoë Alleyne drew her spine straight, exhaled harshly through gritted teeth and stepped calmly into the building.

An unsettled feeling queased about in her stomach, alternating between sharp and dull, but ever present, as her sharp eyes scanned the environment within. Taking in each face, she habitually sized up each as to level of threat and potential strengths.

Seven purple-belly soldiers, sitting at various points throughout the room. Off-duty. Three of them glanced her way. No immediate risk. They were more concerned with the vid screen than the ex-Browncoat corporal slowly working her way through their midst. Of course, her current clothing of choice concealed her prior military affiliation. That was all for the better, as at present she had enough to concentrate on without drawing their attention.

What the guay had she gotten herself into this time? No mission had ever shaken her like this, not the cool-headed career soldier who could silently slit an enemy's throat, patch up a fallen comrade, and call in a blistering air-strike all before lunch. This should be a cake-walk for her, easy-peasy, as Mal would say. She had survived the post-war prison camp, and more horrors during the war itself that didn't bear thinking on.

_Do the job_, she told herself. She stifled a grimace at what the Sarge would say if he could see her right now. Despite her carefully schooled composure, he'd have picked up how anxious she was in a second, and assuming she survived this night, he'd laugh his gorram ass off.

Zoë was thankful he wasn't around for this particular sortie, the first foray into this uncharted land. Focusing on the present, she concentrated on easing one long leg in front of the other, and on maintaining balance, her dark eyes searching for the assigned location.

She found the agreed-upon booth in the corner. He was already there, waiting in the dim lighting, appearing almost as anxious as she felt. _Can't let that show_, she reminded, _maintain control of the situation or who knows what trouble will follow._

Allowing a faint smile to curve the corners of her mouth, she smoothed her clothing as she approached, trying to put him at ease. No need to scare him to death, when all she wanted was intel.

_A simple reconnaissance mission. Get the facts. Determine his objectives. Conclude the evening and get back to the ship, ASAP. Easy-peasey._

She nearly had herself convinced she could pull this off, when the blond haired man rose respectfully to assist her into the booth. She almost congratulated herself on keeping her carefully constructed façade in place, until he turned his hopeful blue gaze on her.

The dull-sharp ache in her midsection intensified. A bit of the shell she'd carefully drawn around herself started to chip as he hit her with a lopsided, quirky smile. _Unfair tactics!_ Open and honest, completely disarming. Zoë knew she was in real trouble now.

But then again, when had she ever shied away from trouble, she reasoned, tilting her head so slightly to the side and allowing her countenance to soften just a bit.

"You look… like an Amazon Goddess," he breathed, reaching across the table to take her hand. "I mean… you're stunning every day… but that dress… that…_dress_…"

Zoë felt herself flush from his nearly babbled words, and ducked her head almost coyly. _Where had that move come from?_

"Thank you, Mr. Washburne," she said, keeping her voice low as not to carry to the other tables. She smoothed her fingers down the bronze fabric of the dress, grateful again that Serenity's resident Companion had been generous enough to loan her the slinky garment. Zoë always chose slink over fooferal, and apparently the ship's persistent pilot approved the choice.

Serenity's hot-shot pilot beamed like she'd told him he'd won the Londinium Lottery.

"Wash," he said. "Friends just call me Wash."

_Definite trouble_, Zoë told herself. _Then again, trouble's just another form of challenge_.

And she always did love a challenge.

***

_If you liked (or didn't) please hit the little button below and tell me (and why). Reviews are manna... Please feed the writer! Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

THE FIRST TIME 3/?

First Reconnaissance

Firefly fanfiction by Brandywine00

Rating: PG-13/T

Part three of a series of "Firsts" for each of the crew. Wash had heard it would be the most incredible thing he'd ever experienced….

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, just like to let Joss's folks play Twister in my brainpan.

Special thanks to jellie_rayneluv for her help on this!

***

He felt her respond to his touch, still a bit in awe that his untried hand could coax such instant reaction of her.

Hoban Washburne had been around the block, so to speak, a few girlfriends here and there, but nothing serious.

_**This**_ was serious, as purely honest as it got. Nothing in his relatively short life had prepared him for the overwhelming rush of emotion and.. just the pure _rightness_ of this moment in time.

Wash felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest, a warm flushed feeling growing within, spreading throughout his whole being as he felt the raw, pulsing power under him. The sure knowledge that it was of his doing, his touch, his caress that caused her to surge up, to move in ways he had only read about, filled him with a sense of reverence.

She was taking him with her toward his destiny, and he'd never be the same again.

Wash knew all other experiences would pale in light of this one moment. He briefly wondered if he'd feel this appreciation every time, prayed he'd never become so jaded that he'd look on it as commonplace. Not this.

Marveling at his steady hands – how unexpected that they no longer trembled – he eased her gently left, then right, then asked for more. A moment's powerful thrust, and his heart jumped to his throat, chest near bursting, mind buzzing, enamored with the ageless, unending beauty laid out before him. His whole life had been lived for this very second, spent waiting and preparing himself for this day. As his breath caught sharp in his lungs, he feared for an instant that he'd pass out, a blackness now creeping into his vision.

He looked into the face of his dream. Small swirls of brightness flitted along the edge of his vision. Growing stronger. Larger. Filling his mind and his view and his heart.

He knew in that moment, nothing would be the same. There would only be 'before' and 'after', and it was in the 'after' that he'd found his heart's home. He would never leave this place, would carry it with him even when forced by necessity to be away for a brief time. He was where he belonged.

They were more lovely than anyone had managed to describe to him. Dancing pinpricks of light off in the distance, so bright and shiny he almost reached his hand up to touch them.

World he was from was so polluted, he'd never seen them except on cortex vids. As Wash stared in wonderment out at the thousands of distant burning suns, he knew this first taste of it would never satisfy. He'd never be happy dirt-side again.

"Takes a man by surprise, doesn't it, Hoban," the gravely voice commented low to his left. "Nothing like your first time."

Wash settled himself further into the pilot's seat of the training ship, responding to his instructor with a lopsided smile. Usually the first in the class to crack a wise comment, he found no witty quip forthcoming, wouldn't sully the moment with it anyway. The light from a thousand stars shined in his wide blue eyes as he stared out the ship's thick window. How could any fool call it The Black, when the brilliant Light burning there beckoned?


	4. Chapter 4

THE FIRST TIME 4/?  
First Confrontation  
Firefly fanfiction by Brandywine00  
Rating: PG-13/T

Part four of a series of "Firsts" for each of the crew. Jayne knows their ain't no deal too good to be true…

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, just like to let Joss's folks play around in my brainpan.

* * * *

They were coming for him.

They always did, once they figured he'd have dropped his guard. Started to trust. Started to believe the deal was solid. Only he'd fool them, just like he'd fooled all the rest before. Jayne Cobb never dropped his guard. He was ready for their strike, guns gleaming, and attention on full alert as he waited for them in the darkness.

He'd waited most of the night for the sound of their sneaky boots coming around, strained his ears to hear traitorous whispers conspiring to take him down while he slept. So he hadn't slept. Laid there in the dark, hunkered down with Boo drawn and ready to sing in his strong right hand, his left hand curled around Binky's stout handle. Jayne was ready for the double-cross sure to be coming. Weren't a question of 'if', he reminded himself. Always just a question of 'when and how'.

It was a pretty melody that had been sung to him. Damn near made him believe. Jayne kicked himself. For a bright shiny moment, he had believed it, but he weren't no fool. A man didn't live his kinda life long what he didn't know this song, and he'd danced to the tune of a deal gone wrong too many times. Hadn't even bothered to unpack this time. Good things and good deals didn't come along for men like him. He weren't stupid, even if he let others assume he was.

Pa told him a hundred times, "Something sounds too good to be true, ya watch yer back for the double-cross, boy. Ain't no such thing as too good to be true." Even if – especially if – a man really wanted to believe.

A tiny, bitter lament whispered in the back of his mind, though he'd be gorramed if he ever gave it voice. Life hadn't always been like this for Radiant Cobb's eldest boy. Hadn't grown up rich, but no worse than any other folk around the mountain mining community. Sang in the choir every Church-Day, looking out over the pews to find Ma's bright blue eyes shining proud. Not too awful with his studies, either, though Mattie was always more the scholar.

But the mine got tapped out. Pa's paycheck got smaller. Mattie got sick more often. So Jayne did what any self-respecting man would do, help pick up the slack by finding work. Didn't mind, it was a fella's place to look out for his family. Any what wouldn't do, weren't no kinda man. Luckily, for a strapping lad with a strong back and willing mind, there was always some kind of work to be found. When there weren't, his steady hand and keen eye helped keep meat on the table.

Before long, it was more work and less school. Part-time jobs turned into full-time jobs, and an end of his formal schooling. Ma flat pitched a fit about that, but Jayne weren't so selfish he'd sit around all day when he could be earning much-needed coin. When the medicines his little brother needed got too expensive for the basic-wage jobs around the mountains, he trekked his way down to the Flats, took up work as best he could find, ending up hired on with an outbound freighter.

Weren't a bad job for a nineteen-year-old, far as that went. Kept him busy, with plenty of coin to send home to Ma, got to see a bit of the 'Verse. And the women! Gorram it, every port they hit had women ready to spend time for a bitty amount of coin. All was right and shiny in the 'verse until a major malfunction on the freighter put the captain out of business.

His next crew weren't so trustworthy, leaving him stranded dirt-side and taking off with his earnings, his belongings, everything he didn't have on him. Job after that was worse, half the ruttin' crew willing to kill the others for a bigger, better cut. Or for an imagined slight. Or just out of pure meanness. Got worse each time he found someplace new. After that, he learned. A man living like him couldn't trust. Couldn't believe. Even when – especially when – he really wanted it to be true.

And there it was. The quiet sound he'd been waiting for all night, soft feet easing toward the hatch of his new quarters. Jayne quietly cocked the hammer, easing his body off the clean-smelling bedding to take up the best position for the confrontation. Picking the darkened far corner, he crouched low. Whichever one came after him would have to get all the way into the cabin in order to hit him.

He waited. And cursed himself again for giving hope a chance when he ought to ruttin'-well know better by now. Another crap-heel situation he'd got himself into that he'd gloss over in his letter home. 'Dear Ma, Had a good job, decent food, but it just didn't work out. How's the weather there?' Jayne knew she never fell for the whole story, always wanted more for her boy, but he did what he had to do and she knew it.

A faint tapping against the metal hatch shocked him. Dumbass was gonna knock? 'Pardon me, is this a good time to come down an' shoot ya now?' The tapping came louder, followed by a faint sliver of light from the corridor's night lamps as the hatch eased open.

"Psst. Hey, down there. You awake?" The whispered words surprised him only a little less than the voice they were attached to. Jayne hid his gun behind his thigh, still ready when he needed it, but out of sight.

"Yeah." he called back quiet and low to not give away his position. "Whatcha want?"

"Can I come down?"

He paused briefly, thinking on the old story of a spider and a parlor and a fly. Only he still weren't sure which of them was supposed to be the spider.

"Sure," he answered in hushed tones. "Suit yerself."

Legs came first, then the rest of the body, something balanced on one hip as the other hand lowered the crew member into the bunk.

"Thought ya might want a head-start, since ya came on so late yesterday." The sparkling smile hit him hard. If he believed any bit of this go se fairy tale, that smile woulda melted his heart right then and there. A bit of his carefully-held armor crumbled a bit, though he wasn't sure if it was the cheery little gal beaming at him or the smell coming at him from the tray she carried.

"Is… is that… eggs?" he asked almost reverently. "An' bacon? Do I smell bacon?"

Her laugh was like a clear bright bell, a music nearly foreign to ears accustomed to listening for whispers and gunfire and creeping feet and explosions. Ma used to laugh like that, when the family was all together.

"Naw, ain't real bacon. Pressed bacon-shaped protein, but it tastes almost close, for space food." She pulled a worn but clean towel off the tray, and Jayne's stomach growled so loud it echoed through his new private bunk. "Eggs are real enough, dried and reconstituted. But I reckon they did once come out of a chicken to start with."

She held the offering out to him. Second thoughts crept into the back of his mind. Could be poisoned, them figuring he'd expect gun play but wouldn't suspect the sunny little gal-mechanic he'd met only for a moment. Just as quick, Jayne latched onto the tray, his fingers briefly touching her hands as she just smiled up at him as open and honest-looking as a bright spring day.

Lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, he balanced the heavy load on his knees. She plopped herself down facing him, a foot drawn underneath her, the knee of her grease-stained overalls sporting a teddy bear patch. That smile grew wider, her cinnamon eyes shining as she watched him shovel in the first forkload.

Jayne smiled back at her, realizing he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if the food was loaded with arsenic or botulism or gorram magic fairy dust. He'd eat the whole ruttin' plateful and smile as he swallowed, and weren't just because his guts were about to fight his backbone on account of only having the one meal yesterday.

She had to be for real. If someone sweet and innocent as this little gal weren't to be trusted, Jayne decided he didn't care to go on in this 'verse. If trusting her was a mistake, well, at least he wouldn't be around long enough to regret it. And he'd go out in a warm bed with a full belly and a pretty little gal smiling at him.

He began to believe. He just had to.

* * * *


	5. Chapter 5

THE FIRST TIME 5/?  
First Pressure  
Firefly fanfiction by Brandywine00  
Rating: PG-13/T

Part five of a series of "Firsts" for each of the crew. Pa had tried to warn her, but Kaylee wasn't sure she could do what he was askin' of her ….  
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, not makin' coin off 'em, just like to let Joss's folks play around in my brainpan.  
Felt froggy and posted this one without beta… all mstaikes r my won! Reviews appreciated. Hope y'all enjoy!

.*****

She breathed deep through her nose, trying not to panic even though her heart was 'bout to bang right outta her gorram ribcage.

"Hold 'er together, girl," she murmured. "Ain't like ya never done this before."

_Ain't never been like this before, though_, she thought as a jolt of fear shot through her belly. Looking into an expectant pair of intense blue eyes, she doubted her decision for the first time. _ Ain't never really meant this much, never really been somethin', not 'til now._

"You understand what I want ya to do, Kaylee?" Mal's voice was soft and smooth as Pa's finest sippin' whiskey, but his eyes held a hardness she hadn't seen much in him. Weren't no question of not doin', just a matter of if it'd be good enough. "Cause if ya _don't_ do it – "

"It ain't that, Cap'n!" she gasped, a flush creeping up her cheeks. "Naw, ain't that a'tall!" Reaching for the collar of her coveralls, she shrugged them off her shoulders. She was already flushed hot, and just gonna get hotter. "I'll… I just…"

"Ain't no need to be nervous, lil' Kaylee," he soothed, a callused palm lightly rubbing the now-bare back of her arm. _Oughta be rougher than that, what with how he earns a livin',_ she mused in some corner of her mind. "I know you've done this same thing before. This is just like every other time, just relax an'… an' let the magic flow, dong ma?"

Nibbling on her bottom lip, mostly to keep it from shakin' like a Capisen Thirty-Eight engine tryin' to stay airborne, she closed her eyes and nodded. She laid back, trying to get into the best position, tryin' real hard not to let him hear her whimper or see her shake or the tears threatenin' to squeeze outta the corner of her eyes.

"_Ya sure this is what ya want, girl?" Pa's voice echoed in her head, his soft brown eyes full of love and worry over his little girl. "All kinda things happen up there ya ain't used to. Things be asked of ya that ya ain't never - "_

"_Pa, I'll be just fine," she'd assured him, still giddy with the idea of goin' out with a space crew on a real, honest-ta-goodness space ship. "Cap'n Mal's gonna take real good care of me. And I'll write."_

_He'd been antsy 'bout lettin' her go. "I could jus' say no. Tell ya t'git on up t'yer room, ain't no daughter of mine leavin' out with a buncha spacefarin' strangers. Not getting' herself out in the Black an' put in a bad spot when who knows what happens."_

_Kaylee'd near cried right then and there, but Pa had just sighed. "Hard fer yer Pa to remember sometimes yer a woman full-growed now. I can try ta keep ya grounded, but wouldn't be fair ta clip yer wings when I always knew ya were meant ta fly. Just… I got a couple things I wanna say here. Want ya ta listen, Kaywinnet, and ya better listen to me good, dong ma? First, fellas yer gonna be meetin' out there… ya can't be messin' with 'em, not like the fellas round here."_

_She'd blushed right up to the roots of her hair. Never had figured Pa knew she'd been messin' around with boys, but Pa knowed even when she tried to hide it. "I'll be real careful, Pa. I'll be a good gal."_

"_Even them on that there ship… they seem all right, but… ain't a one of 'em a schoolboy, an' ain't been fer near long as you been around. Ya keep yerself outta trouble. Ya run inta trouble out there, ain't no one but you ta see ya get outta it. Do a good job, keep that bird in the air, keep 'er in shape, keep 'er flyin' right, an' ya'll do just fine."_

_They'd talked a good hour more, 'til it was time for her to join the crew. Pa'd given her all kinds of advice, includin' warnin' her about all kinda situations._

Pa had warned her about this. She shoulda seen this moment comin'.

Really, she kinda had thought toward it the day they'd first met, the day Mal hired her on as crew. He'd been real excited to hire her, and even understanding, what with finding a half-dressed, fresh-off-the-prairie girl in his engine room, makin' time with his then-mechanic, Bester.

Knew he'd call on her like this one day. Knew she'd have to perform or… well, there weren't no 'or' to be had.

"_Ain't nobody can hear ya, out in the Black."_ She'd heard it a hundred times, never give much thought to how desperately far from any other folk they were, how far from her Ma and Pa's little farmstead she'd gotten. Out in the deepest part of the Black, weren't nobody to come to the rescue if she couldn't do what Mal was askin' of her. It'd be the end of the line, and not just gettin' sent back home.

Beads of sweat dotted the space between her breasts as she waited with closed eyes. Waited for "the magic" as Mal had called it. Kaylee shut out the rest of the 'verse – the noises of the crew, the gentle rumbling of Serenity's workin's, Mal's steady breathin', her own heartbeat thumpin' loud and hard against her ribs, Mal shiftin' his feet, kneelin' down next to her legs.

"Kaylee...?" Cap'n said low.

"S'alright, Cap'n, just hush a minute, an' let me get to doin'," she answered back with just a little bit of sass, feelin' bolder now that she was on familiar ground.

"I just need to know, girl… you gonna be able to…"

"Ain't got much choice, I reckon, do I?"

"No, don't reckon ya do."

And there it was, the "magic" comin' to her in a rush as she knew, just _knew_. She reached her hands out, not shakin' now, but steady and sure like back home, like they'd always been, and did what needed doin'.

Time just kinda stopped workin' , and she couldn't hear the other sounds now, couldn't see the Cap'n or know if he was holdin' his breath, or if it was getting' shorter and faster like she felt her own chest risin' and fallin'. That shiny excitement flushed through her like it did every time, and quick as spit, she had it done.

"Kaylee?" Mal looked down at her, worry and hope fightin' between themselves in his eyes.

She gave him a big ol' smile then, pattin' his hand to calm his fears. "Weren't nothin', Cap'n."

She sat up, brushing a bit of oil from her cheek. "Naught more than a reflux wire, prob'ly got shimmied loose on that last landin' and caused the fuel stabilizer to get tacked. S'all shiny now, Cap'n."

Mal blew out the breath he'd held since his new, young, very, very young mechanic had slid under Serenity's engine and started doin' her thing. "So… we're not gonna explode, then.. right?"

"We're gonna explode?" A gruff voice chimed in from the doorway of the engine room. "I don't wanna explode, Mal. Kaylee-girl, you ain't gonna let us explode, are ya?"

Kaylee shot the big man a reassuring grin. Jayne tried to sound as tough as he was in a fight, and that was somethin' fierce, but there was an edge of scared hidin' out in his tone. Kaylee wouldn't dare call him on it. Weren't his job to know how to keep Serenity purrin', no more than it was hers to handle the shootin' or the intimidatin'.

Out here in the Black, they all relied on _her_. Their lives were in _her_ hands, a notion that scared and humbled her and made her proud all at the same time.

"We're not gonna explode, Jayne," Zoe's calm voice answered from beside the merc. Didn't look shook up, but the tall, steady first mate had that relieved look around her mouth now. Kaylee liked that better than the hard straight line Zoe'd had since Wash told them something weren't right in the take-off and all the indicators went a-flashin' and poppin' like a gorram holiday.

Cap'n was grinnin' at her like all kinda Christmas, helpin' her up from the grated floor and squeezin' her shoulders with a big one-armed hug. "Done good, li'l Kaylee. Done real good. Folks, reckon this here'd be a special occasion, what with us not explodin' an' all, thanks to our genius mechanic an' her mechanicky magic. What say we crack open that last tin of peaches, a treat on account of Kaylee savin' our pi gu's?"

As the crew made their way back to the mess hall, Kaylee felt an aftershock of terror shoot through her belly.

What if it hadn't been a simple wire, a simple fix?

Serenity driftin' aimless in the Black.

Mal, Zoe, Wash, Jayne, herself all dead cause she couldn't fix the problem.

Mal turned back around as she fell behind, and saw her smile had faded. "Y'alright, Kaylee?"

Nodding her head, she let him see that worry for a second.

Cap'n patted her shoulder. "Takes a bit gettin' used to, don't it? That first time a-knowin' folks are countin' on you for their lives."

"Pa told me it'd feel different out here, be more…." She didn't know how to put it. "Just…I ain't really thought on it hard 'til now. It's the same job like when I was workin' in his shop. Same parts, same pieces, same way to fit 'em together an' make 'em run. But it ain't the same a'tall, y'know? What if… what if next time…"

"Can't worry on that, mei-mei. Can't live on what-ifs. Just gotta do what needs doin', best as ya can, ever time, dong ma? Now, on to the important stuff… we don't hurry up, Jayne's gonna have all them peaches ate 'fore we get there!"

"He better not!" She laughed, running on ahead to make sure that didn't happen.

Pa had been right. It was different out here in the Black, and she wouldn't trade it for nothin'.


End file.
